


a truth so loud (you can't ignore)

by orphan_account



Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: Abuse of the italics feature, Connor isn't out and Troye makes him flustered, House Party, M/M, Troye likes to dance/sing/be the centre of attention, Underage Drinking, Youth MV inspired basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-28 20:40:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6344359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>wallflower<br/>ˈwɔːlflaʊə/<br/>a shy or excluded person at a dance or party; may choose or feel the need to blend in and remain silent<br/>.<br/>Connor doesn't really 'do' parties and Troye doesn't really 'do' shy boys but they both find a way of embracing something new</p>
            </blockquote>





	a truth so loud (you can't ignore)

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't wrote in like seven months lmao I've missed it but time is something I don't seem to have very much of so  
> Anyway this oneshot has been in my mind ever since the Youth video came out ! hope you guys enjoy it - Lauren x

The buzz of mindless chatter and heavy bass filled the illuminated living room of a house Connor wasn't sure he belonged in. If he was being completely honest, he wasn't exactly sure whose tattered sofa he was sat on and what drink was overflowing in his cup either. All that he did know was that Kian was the one who had convinced him to tag along to the party and yet he was nowhere to be seen as of yet. 

Connor sighed heavily, hesitantly sipping at the liquid which was beginning to resemble the taste of vodka as he analysed the room once more. It seemed to have become a regular occurrence to find himself alone during these sorts of parties. Despite the fact that Kian and JC were the ones who constantly encouraged him to go with the promise that they'd all have fun together, it seemed that this fun only extended to hooking up with girls and getting far too wasted. It wasn't that Connor thought he was superior to Kian and JC for choosing not to get wasted and take on more of a 'sensible' role however; it was just that he was reserved and introverted and less of a party animal than they were. And whilst he was happily popular by means of association, that didn't mean anyone actually wanted to speak to him during social gatherings.

So all in all, you could say Connor was having a pretty shitty time.

He glanced over to his left and noticed a couple making out on the other side of the couch, both blonde and fair in complexion, and he would be lying if he said that didn't make him feel worse. It wasn't like he rejected PDA or anything; more that he was just jealous and curious of what it would feel like if he could do that with a girl and actually _feel_ something. More that he wished he wasn't suppressing the underlying feeling that lurked in the corners of his mind concerning girls and relationships and silly little make-out sessions. More that he was wondering what it would feel like to be kissing the boy instead, with tongue and teeth and wandering hands.

He took another swig of vodka, attempting to blur the image. 

The burning sensation seemed more prominent as he arose from his seat, disengaging from his previous thoughts as he wondered what he should do or where he should go next. He could go home, but by the next morning he'd be having a lecture from both his friends and family about how he wasn't 'living his youth to the fullest' or simply 'not enjoying himself'. There was also the option of just continuing to drink, but then a hangover and potential vomiting all night didn't sound much more appealing.

He didn't even realise he had a third option until he realised it was staring him right in the face.

Connor's eyes made contact with the dance floor that had formed in the dimly lit pink living room, watching as his classmates and other teenagers he didn't know sway and hopelessly grind along to some music he didn't listen to. His eyes gravitated towards the individual who was in the middle of the room, dancing admittedly badly on his own but with enthusiasm none the less. His arms were flailing around as he sang along to the lyrics Connor couldn't quite understand, and despite the fact he looked a little silly, he seemed to be having more fun than anybody else in the room.

Connor recognised the individual as Troye Sivan, the boy who sat two rows in front of him in his English class. He was charming and friendly but slightly mysterious in Connor's opinion, with practically everyone gushing over him without knowing very much about him. Connor always noticed how Troye would banter back and forth with a couple of students in the class, especially Kian, with his slightly dorky sense of humour and infectious laughter. He had only spoken to Troye briefly, due to the fact Connor kept to himself during class and English especially, since it was his favourite lesson.

Connor couldn't help but smile as Troye continued to 'dance', although at this point it seemed to resemble more of a stomp and shuffle as he threw his head back and laughed at something a brunette headed girl said to him. His curls were falling into his eyes and his silver bomber jacket seemed too loose on him to move around without attacking someone with his sleeve, but he didn't seem to care. With pale porcelain skin blushing a pretty shade of pink and a smile that had everyone veering towards him, Troye seemed as if he had the world at his feet.

Connor felt his own cheeks redden as he considered how pretty Troye looked tonight **(always)** in his fitted black jeans, t-shirt and gleaming nose ring that should've looked ridiculous but was pulled off effortlessly by the Australian boy. He looked so much more comfortable than Connor, who had hesitantly wore a pink sweater that suddenly didn't seem to fit him all that well, and ripped jeans. Troye exuded confidence too, which Connor couldn't help but feel was yet another endearing quality about him. Everything about him was pretty enviable, in fact.

He wondered for a moment how many shots it would take for him to finally gather the nerve he needed to go and start a conversation with Troye, or to simply walk on the dance floor.

The question seemed to be answered as he found Troye's eyes staring back into his, a playful expression on his features as he quirked his brow in Connor's direction. He seemed to have twigged onto the fact that Connor had been watching him, and by the looks of the smirk he had, it seemed like he didn't really mind as he began to sway his hips in a way that read less as awkward and more as suggestive.

Connor knew that it was all meant to be a joke, the kind of banter he saw exchanged between the boys at school, but he found himself blushing nonetheless. He suddenly felt small in his sweater, as if it was drowning him out, and he wanted to run away. 

Swallowing thickly, he quickly consumed the rest of his drink and moved into an unknown direction, realising it seemed pretty obvious that no amount of shots could prepare Connor for even a glance in Troye's direction.

-

Connor wasn't exactly positive as to how he had ended up in the bath tub with just the right amount of alcohol in his system to make himself feel tipsy, but then again stranger things had happened. 

From what he had gathered, he had eventually located JC's whereabouts in the kitchen for all of five minutes, which was more than enough time for him to pressure Connor into drinking too much in too little of a moment. Before he knew it, JC had moved away again and Connor was left to try and find his feet whilst becoming more and more lost in the house he still had no idea who belonged to.

Connor had also discovered, whilst sitting in the bath tub and continuing to sip on something that tasted like it had been found in the back of an alley, that his thoughts about Troye and his dancing seemed to intensify. No matter how many times he closed his eyes or tried to gravitate the flow of his mind into other directions, the image of Troye dancing had Connor's heart beating far too fast and it was beginning to frighten him.

When Connor really thought about it, the whole 'running away from Troye' thing seemed to be a mindset as well as an action. Avoiding his problems seemed to be what he did best after all, and Troye was no exception to this rule. Connor would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't attracted to Troye and that he hadn't immediately formed a crush on him when he'd first entered their class last year as a new student. There was something about him, even beyond his looks, that he found so captivating. It made his heart ache in the best and worst kind of way.

Troye had come out almost immediately to all of his classmates, choosing not to make a big deal about it. Nobody treated him any differently, hell, people seemed to love him more. Even the boys, who Connor thought had problems with Troye's nature, ultimately brushed it off because Troye radiated an edginess and coolness that had everybody wanting to be his friend. He was everything that Connor wasn't, personified.

Connor found himself pulling his knees towards his chest, anxiety prickling against his skin like daggers as he considered what Troye's opinion was of him. He pondered on the thought of if Troye had ever been even remotely interested in him, or even considered him to be a friend. Did Troye even have an opinion on Connor? Did he even care about the quiet boy in his English class, who hung around with boys that were too loud and spoke too much and were the polar opposite to him?

Did Troye even know Connor, or was he just another passing face to him?

Did anyone even know him? Care about him?

In hindsight, being tipsy and sat in the bath of an unknown house really didn't seem to be the best location for Connor to have a life crisis and yet it was beginning to happen.

Maybe going home really _was_ the best option.

His legs were unsteady as he considered that idea and stepped out of the bath, his heart thumping as he stumbled towards the mirror by the sink. He stared at himself for a moment, trying to convince himself that he was okay and that he wasn't gay or sad or on the verge of sobbing about his mess of a life. 

"You're okay," Connor spoke aloud, his voice shaking in a way that indicated otherwise, but it seemed like enough to convince him it was true for only tonight at least.

He unlocked the door, hoping nobody had been waiting to use the toilet as he was pretty sure he'd passed out in there for half an hour, as well as experiencing internal existentialism for a good fifteen minutes. Luckily, nobody seemed to be around the toilet and the hallway was only scattered with a few people kissing and drinking and someone even sleeping.

The house resembled a maze as Connor attempted to retrace his steps back to the living room, and the light feeling in his head didn't seem to make matters any easier. He found himself walking in on two girls in a particularly compromising position and also discovered a room filled with children's toys that looked anything but innocent with couples making out on them.

He eventually accepted the fact that he was lost in the house so spent some time in a room only dimly lit with fairy lights and lava lamps. If Connor had more sense, he would've pulled out his phone to snap a picture; the room was beautiful in the most simplistic kind of way, and for the first time all night he finally felt at peace with himself.

It took Connor a little while to realise that Troye was also in the room. He was sat crossed legged on the floor, applying a final coat of lavender nail polish to a girls nails and humming a tune that Connor didn't quite recognise. His own nails were painted a pale pink colour, slightly lighter than the colour of Connor's sweater, and he was suddenly making eye contact with Connor all over again as the girl moved away after kissing Troye's temple.

Connor felt the nerves in his stomach erupt and he knew he couldn't run away this time, what with Troye so close to him and looking at him so expectantly. He honestly was clueless about what to say or do, so settled on smiling in a way that he hoped read more as friendly and less as terrified out of his skin. Luckily, Troye seemed to see things in the former way, and patted the place on the floor next to him for Connor to sit down.

_Shit._

Connor exhaled quietly, trying to prevent his legs from shaking as he dropped down onto the floor next to Troye with an element of nervousness in his step. Troye looked as cool and happy and hot as ever with his wide toothy grin, and Connor was having such a hard time dealing with it all that he almost missed Troye's question; "Is everything okay Connor?"

Connor looked at Troye for a moment, repressing the notion of staring into his speckled blue eyes for too long as he nodded his head. He didn't exactly trust himself to speak yet and the close proximity in which both boys were sitting really didn't seem to help matters.

"Are you here alone?"

"I was meant to be with Kian and JC but..." Connor was surprised at how steady his voice was as he trailed off, shying from Troye's attention as he stared down at his hands.

"I saw them leave with some girls earlier," Troye informed him, and Connor hoped his mind was playing tricks on him when he sensed pity in the other boys tone of voice.

He smiled to himself instead, trying his hardest to not seem defeated.

"It's okay. They always do."

Troye sounded slightly conflicted as he asked another question.

"You're...not like them, are you?"

The seriousness of Troye's tone, one that was completely different to the charismatic and playful one that Connor had grown to love, made Connor feel almost unsettled. The fact that the question could be interpreted in a couple of ways also didn't help calm his uneasiness towards the situation.

"Um-no. Not really. They're good friends but yeah-we're different I guess."

A moment of silence fell over both boys as the answer was left hanging in the air, only the sound of subdued music from the living room filling the void. It was Troye who spoke first, signalling Connor's attention by knocking his knee against Connor's thigh and making him jump in the process.

"You know you look like really good tonight, right?"

 _That_ was more like the Troye Connor knew from class, and if Connor's heart had already been beating fast, right now it seemed like it was on the verge of combusting.

"What?" He managed to say, trying to make sure he'd heard Troye right as he felt the other boy move closer.

"Pink really suits you," Troye spoke causally, and Connor knew he wasn't imagining things when he saw Troye check him out with a lingering gaze. A really hot one, at that.

"Thanks," Connor managed to speak without sounding too affected by the comment, and instead tried to focus on how to keep the conversation flowing.

"It kinda matches the colour of your nails," he settled on continuing with a gentle beam.

Troye glanced down at his fingers with a smile, comparing his hand against Connor's sweater and grinning in a way that made Connor feel light headed. Troye's gaze eventually fell to Connor's nails, and Connor could already see the cogs turning in Troye's mind as their eyes met once again.

"This colour could look good on you," he grinned as he held up the lavender nail polish and observed Connor's reaction expectantly.

Connor blinked uncertainly, his sight flickering between his nails and the bottle of polish squeezed between Troye's fingers. He recalled a time where he had once almost applied some of his sisters nail varnish, after seeing Troye sport a particularly nice shade of blue one day at school, but had ultimately backed out because of the opinions his family and friends could've potentially had on him.

"You don't have to," Troye told him, sensing some discomfort in Connor's expression as he attempted to move away again.

"N-no it's okay," Connor decided to bit the bullet and held out his hand, hoping Troye hadn't heard him stutter and prayed his blush wasn't extremely prominent as Troye took his hand.

"There's a first time for everything, right?" 

Connor didn't miss the smirk on Troye's face when he spoke again, his heart threatening to thump louder as he considered the undertone of that question. Connor held his breathe for the whole time, attempting to process the fact a guy he had an overwhelming crush on was technically holding his hand and painting his nails with care and precision and on top of that, possibly flirting with him.

Troye's tongue was sticking out in concentration, running over his bottom lip in a totally unnecessary way and looked quite frankly obscene in Connor's opinion as he tried to control his breathing and not think about Troye's mouth too much.

"It looks edgy with just your middle fingers painted," Troye's words snapped Connor back into reality as he admired Troye's handiwork, pleasantly surprised at the way the colour complimented his skin tone.

"They're...different. A nice different," Connor said to himself, choosing not to comment on the fact Troye was still holding onto his left hand and brushing his thumb against Connor's skin in a soothing and almost relaxing sort of way. 

"Glad you like them," Troye murmured, before bringing Connor's hand closer to his face. It took Connor a moment to register what was happening, until he felt cool air against his fingertips.

Troye was drying his nails.

Troye was _blowing_ on his nails

Connor couldn't help but keep his eyes fixated on Troye's mouth now, his lips parting ever so slightly as Connor wondered how they could look so soft and full and kissable. How their redness contrasted the paleness of his skin. How Connor was finding it really hard to think straight when Troye was sat in front of him doing something completely innocent and yet somehow made it seem desirable.

The cool breath was juxtaposing Connor's warm skin and he felt as if he couldn't breathe all that well.

"Come and dance with me, Connor."

Connor felt like the room was spinning out of tipsiness and nerves, and Troye's abrupt suggestion had his thoughts blurring further.

"Dance?"

"Yeah. I can show you some moves," the suggestiveness of Troye's tone wasn't helping Connor's flustered state, and couldn't decide whether he wanted to take up Troye's offer or run away again.

"I don't really...dance," he settled on telling Troye weakly, but Troye wasn't having any of it. Before Connor knew it, Troye had pulled them both up of their feet and had his hand securely grasped around Connor's wrist.

"You need to loosen up, okay? Let yourself have some fun for once."

"But I-..." Connor was silenced almost immediately by Troye's finger pressing against his lips, his eyes widening comically as Troye's hand that had previously been around his wrist slipped into his hand instead and _shitshitshit Troye was actually holding his hand like actually holding his hand and Connor was about to die for sure._

"I'll show you how to have fun. I promise."

And before Connor had any further time to protest, Troye was dragging him out the door and into a situation that Connor knew was going to end badly.

-

When Connor and Troye finally found their way into the living room again, the human dance floor had decreased in size. Most of the teenagers were now draped on top of the sofas, (or each other) whilst other individuals had moved into the kitchen to consume their body weight in alcohol and other questionable substances. Connor was pretty sure he spotted Kian passed out next to the kitchen sink, but decided to ignore it as a girl he recognised from his Art class called Zoe offered him a shot, which he took without question. If his life was about to fall apart in front of his very eyes, he might as well go down as ungracefully as possible.

Despite this, Connor was still mostly terrified as Troye dragged him towards the centre of the room with determination and a strong grip. Troye managed to haul Connor in the middle of the dance floor and stood opposite him, a shit eating grin on his face as another song began to play. It was slow and sensual and Connor was already accepting his death as Troye began to roll his hips shamelessly.

"You can't just stand there and not dance to my favourite song Connor," Troye's voice was low over the music, his eyes fixed on Connor's and able to see the outward embarrassment of the American boy.

Before Connor could answer or merely register the question, Troye's hands had slid around his waist and he was suddenly _extremely_ close in Connor's personal space. He manoeuvred Connor by swaying them both along to the subdued beat of the song, and Connor had honestly never felt more out of his element.

"See? You can do it," Troye told him, his eyes shining brightly as he seemed oblivious to Connor's helpless state. 

Troye's hands continued to tilt Connor's movements as the American hesitantly placed his hands on Troye's shoulders, which Troye took as a form of encouragement to make Connor dance in a slightly different way. The swaying had suddenly began to resemble a series of circles instead, and everything in the room suddenly felt a lot tighter and indecent and irresistible. In a weird way, Connor even felt a little more comfortable in his skin.

Well, that was until Troye leaned towards him and began to whisper.

"You're really good at this."

The slightly husky voice and breath against Connor's neck had him freezing up as Troye continued to patiently talk Connor through the dance moves, and the proximity and alcohol and arousal he was really struggling to hide had Connor feeling slightly heady.

"I should ask you to dance with me more often."

Connor knew he wasn't imagining things as he felt Troye's hands move further south so that they were now placed on his hips instead, and every single movement seemed to turn more and more provocative. 

Troye's face was soon back face to face with Connor's, his pupils blown wide and the expression on his face evident. Connor could feel a slight drop in his stomach as he realised Troye probably had him all figured out by now and knew exactly what they both wanted. What he wanted, more specifically.

Their faces were so close to one another, closer than they'd ever been, and Connor couldn't stop himself from staring at the faded birthmark under Troye's eye and the sapphire colour that seemed to have him intoxicated. He refused to take his eyes off the cute button nose that was slightly scrunched up and the defined jawbone that could probably slice him in half. He tried to resist the parted pink lips that he could kiss if he wanted to, but ultimately failed because this was Troye and Troye was someone he hadn't really stopped thinking about for the past twelve months.

And Connor really **did** want to kiss him. The butterflies in his stomach had suddenly doubled and tripled and then multiplied as Troye paused their dance movements and allowed everything to become very still. He seemed playful and his eyes were wandering all over Connor in a way that made him feel slightly **(very)** vulnerable.

Troye seemed to want this as much as he did. Hell, he had even been instigating the majority of their flirtation tonight.

So why did it feel as if Connor couldn't breathe? Like he was drowning and gasping for air?

It had suddenly occurred to Connor that he was still in the middle of a dance floor, engaging in a moment that some would consider intimate in front of everybody. Anyone could see the way he was looking at Troye, the way he was dancing, the way he was touching him. They would know.

Perhaps they all already _knew._

"Connor," Troye simply said, the sympathetic tone he'd heard earlier coming back into play as Connor removed his arms from the other boy slowly. He seemed to know exactly what was going on, and Connor couldn't tell if that was better or worse in the given situation.

His eyes glazed over as he moved away, simply shaking his head as he pushed his way through the crowds of people and into another unknown direction.

He ignored the way people stared at him as he walked with as much determination as a tipsy person was capable of, eventually finding the hallway and stumbling into one of the unoccupied bedrooms. The only source of light in the room streamed in from the window, and it seemed sort of out of place in a house so vibrant and colourful.

How fitting the darkness seemed to be for Connor. He wondered if it could be fate as he closed the door and sunk down to the ground against the wall, his breathing uneven and whole body shaking. He had gotten exactly what he wanted; to talk to Troye and spend time with him, only to completely blow it due to the secret he'd been keeping for what felt like centuries.

His head fell into his hands, shielding away any stray tears that threatened to escape him. If he could just accept who he was and break free from his shy exterior, he wouldn't even be sat on the floor. He'd probably be in the middle of the dance floor kissing Troye and dancing a lot more recklessly. 

Connor bit his lip as he thought about Troye. If he hadn't had an opinion on Connor before, he definitely was going to have one now. He'd probably think that he was a complete coward and an asshole simultaneously. Even if he had sounded sympathetic when Connor left, that didn't mean he would be once he saw him again.

It was at that exact moment that the door flew open and Troye burst inside, his expression softening as he saw Connor sat on the floor. Connor swallowed roughly as Troye took a moment to stand by the door frame, his thin silhouette gazing at Connor momentarily before he wandered further inside. He made sure to close the door, which heightened Connor's previous anxiety as the room became dark again.

He stepped towards Connor with slight hesitance and his boots grazing against the carpet was the only sound that could be heard. He crouched down in front of Connor with an almost nostalgic look on his face, and it made Connor's heart beat ten times faster.

"Connor," Troye's voice was nothing more than a whisper as he placed a gentle hand on Connor's left knee. Though it was dark, Connor could still make out the kind look on Troye's face that matched his tone of voice.

"I'm sor-..." he began to say, but Troye was silencing him almost immediately.

"Don't. It's okay," he paused for a moment, allowing himself to smile as he continued; "You're okay, Connor."

Connor felt the anxiety about Troye potentially hating him disperse almost immediately, and instead found it replaced with a different kind of fear; the kind that concerned Troye _actually_ being interested in him and Connor finally facing up to the fact that he really like boys and he really liked Troye.

Connor's gaze was soon fixed on Troye's hand and its presence. It felt warm on his knee, contrasting to the cool sweat he felt on the surface of his skin, and Connor was beginning to register the fact that Troye was touching him again and he _liked_ it. He was alone with a boy he'd thought about consistently for the past few months despite being in complete denial about it, and recalled the heartbreak he felt when he heard of Troye's hookups and the way his body had seemed lighter when he saw Troye for the first time. Everything seemed like it had suddenly slowed down and was resting on this moment.

He felt okay. Like a part of him that he didn't even know existed had come back to life once more.

And maybe it was trivial and clichéd and silly to get caught up on a crush of all things, but Connor couldn't help it. In the strangest kind of way, in this exact moment of time, Connor had never felt safer. He felt something that was so raw and real and completely authentic, which should've been terrifying considering he didn't know Troye all that well. Yet, it only felt comforting. It only felt happy, albeit frightening, and welcoming.

He realised Troye was watching him with a similar kind of intensity to what he what he was feeling inside after a while, one that made the air feel hot and thick and tenser than ever. He let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding as Troye held his gaze, but felt himself grow still when Troye began to talk again.

"You don't need to hide you know."

Troye sounded slightly strained as he traced a pattern on Connor's jeans, his eyes never once leaving the boy who was trying his hardest to keep his breathing under control. Connor knew that Troye was right, yet he still couldn't help but shiver at the thought.

"You never have to hide from me."

Troye's other hand moved forward hesitantly to touch Connor's blushing cheek, and he couldn't help but gasp quietly at the simple movement.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," he whispered as his hand moved from Connor's warm face and descended past his neck towards where his pink sweater sat prettily on his collarbones. Something about the whole action felt intimate, and Connor was failing greatly at controlling his breathing (or lack of it). Troye seemed to notice this as Connor could make out a slight smirk in the dark, and he would be lying if he said that didn't excite him more than a little bit. 

The material of his sweater was suddenly balled up in Troye's hand and gently tugging him forward, bringing Connor closer towards Troye and in the same proximity they'd experienced earlier on the dance floor. Connor could hardly breathe at all by this point, his eyes threatening to shut as Troye's sultry movement and tone of voice had its desired effect.

"It's just me," Troye murmured, and it seemed like he was waiting for Connor to say or do something before he continued with his ministrations.

"It's just you," Connor breathed, his sight only fixed on Troye's lips as he tried to overcome the haziness and tipsiness and do what everybody wanted him to do; live in the moment.

So, that's exactly what he did.

He allowed Troye to pull him in all the way, closing the space between them and tilting Connor's head closer. He felt his eyes finally flutter closed and his stomach somersault as Troye's lips were on his, initially tentative and careful in a way that made Connor feel sheltered. He grew nervous as he kissed Troye back, trying not to focus on the technique too much and instead let the moment carry him. It felt different to anything Connor had ever experienced before. Different to when he had been bored when kissing girls and only hoping to feel excitement if he ever kissed a boy. Troye's lips actually felt good against his, incredibly good in fact, and all the worries he'd had about it potentially feeling wrong couldn't have disappeared quicker. Nothing had ever felt more right, if Connor was being completely honest.

Connor felt his blood rushing as the kiss deepened, with Troye's lips parting pleasantly against his to taste him and trace the feeling of him. Connor couldn't help but gasp slightly when Troye quickly pulled away, confusion setting over him until he sensed the hunger in Troye's movements and in the way his eyes raked over Connor's figure.

He yelped as he felt Troye push him against the wall, his hands leaving Connor's body and instead resting on either side of his head as he leaned in to kiss him again. This time, however, this kiss intensified and it was making Connor shudder all over with a newly acquired aggressiveness. It was different and scary, and something that he hadn't even thought about before but he never wanted it to end. Troye's lips were intoxicating, more so than the drink Connor had consumed all night. He felt as if his tipsiness was advancing into being fully wasted as he returned Troye's affectionate movements.

Getting drunk off Troye. That was a concept Connor never wanted to erase from his thoughts.

Connor opened his lips to allow his tongue to meet Troye's, the taste of peppermint prominent and strong as Connor tried to keep up with the pace and demand Troye was setting. Everything felt hot and warm and wet and it caused him to moan involuntarily.

He pulled away briefly, embarrassment evident in his expression at the noise he had made.

"Oh God...I didn't me-..." he began to babble an apology but Troye cut him off with a wild look.

"Don't apologise that's...be as loud as you want it's hot," he told a baffled looking Connor as he leaned in to kiss Connor's jawline instead, his left hand dropping from the wall and instead sneaking to the hem of Connor's sweater.

Connor sucked in a tentative breath as Troye's hands were suddenly making contact with his stomach, his senses becoming overwhelmed as he felt the kisses move towards his neck and Troye's hands splay across his chest. In a way it felt too overwhelming, too much in too little time, but Connor didn't want the movements to cease. It was exciting in a way, allowing his senses to become overworked and everything to feel that little bit heavier and hotter.

Troye's lips eventually left Connor's neck and instead pressed against his mouth again, but this time only leaving a continuous stream of pecks that made Connor feel light as a feather and smile dreamily.

Troye's hand was still up Connor's sweater when he finally spoke again, moving his lips away and allowing Connor to regain his senses.

"Your heart is beating really fast."

Connor, who was still attempting to control his breathing and process exactly what had just happened, nodded his head with an absent minded smile.

"It always does."

He looked at Troye in the dark with a smile that was shy but also radiated a newly found confidence. He still couldn't help but blush as Troye smiled at him however, shying away when Troye eventually removed his hands from Connor's chest.

"You're a pretty amazing kisser Connor," Troye grinned, drinking in Connor's embarrassed reaction to the statement.

"You were..." Connor trailed off, looking at Troye with an equally serious and nervous expression; "That's the best kiss I've ever had."

Troye laughed, the sound resembling music to Connor's ears as he gently kissed Connor's forehead. It was a sweet kind of gesture, the kind that said 'take things slowly' and 'you'll be okay' and 'talk about it when you're ready'.

He swallowed tentatively as he was ready to ask the next question, but it seemed Troye had already read his mind.

"I won't tell anybody about this, don't worry."

Connor beamed at Troye before hugging him, wrapping his arms around the smaller boys figure and thanking him through muffled talking into his shoulder. He felt securer, and even if he still had an awful long way to go in terms of accepting himself, finally facing the situation head on had seemed like a step in the right direction.

"Do you want me to take you home?" 

Troye's question caused a series of images to appear in Connor's head, with the undertone making them seem suggestive.

"I meant 'home' home, not my house. Get your head out of the gutter," Troye teased, and Connor honestly didn't think it was possible for him to turn any more red than he already was. 

Instead he just simply nodded at the question, taking Troye's hand in his and squeezing it tightly, before rising from the floor and leaving a million things unanswered in the dark.

-

The drive back to Connor's house was quiet, but not in an awkward kind of way. It was more something that felt at peace, and mindless chatter could've potentially ruined the serene kind of feeling Connor could finally sense within himself.

When Troye finally stopped outside of his house, there was a brief moment where Connor thought maybe Troye regretted pursuing him. After all, he was just Connor. The quiet kid in class and in parties who couldn't keep up with the popular and social butterfly type like Troye.

But then Connor turned and saw the way Troye was looking at him. It reminded him of the way he usually spent his time looking at Connor in class, like he was untouchable and delicate and too precious for anybody. 

Troye finally saw Connor in the way that he saw him, and he'd be lying if he said that didn't make his heart burst with joy and pride.

He was about to thank Troye for the ride home, when the Australian cut him off.

"You don't realise it, do you?"

Connor frowned, perplexed by the words. 

"Realise what?"

"Just how special you are."

Connor paused, attempting to process the words but ultimately failing when he saw Troye's expression and the fact he was leaning closer to him.

"When you're ready to realise it, let me know."

He kissed Connor sweetly, with compassion and care, and it made Connor's heart thump numbly in his chest.

"I'll wait for you."

"Thank you," he whispered, the multiple meanings not lost on Troye as he opened the car door and exited the vehicle with unsteady legs that weren't just due to the effect of alcohol.

Troye drove away almost immediately, leaving Connor standing on the pavement outside his house alone. He felt a rush within himself as he turned on his heels, his thoughts light and airy for the first time in months. He was finally at ease with himself.

As he walked into his house at one am, with his mother still sat on the couch watching old reruns of a show he didn't recognise, he couldn't help but smile. Even if he was going to have to deal with the hangover from hell in the morning, it had definitely been worth it.

"Enjoy your night?"

His mothers question as he stumbled up the stairs seemed like it had many alternative answers.

However, he just settled on the ever so cryptic one instead.

"You could say that, yeah."


End file.
